


Melody Pond and the Missing Opera of Old Florence

by savvyliterate



Series: Melody Pond [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvyliterate/pseuds/savvyliterate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor surprises Melody with a trip to Renaissance Florence to see the world's first opera performed, with the Ponds and Donna in tow. Except someone has arrived before the TARDIS crew and has seen to changing history, and not for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melody Pond and the Missing Opera of Old Florence

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to Charina for the beta and to Sarah for getting me over the writer's block regarding the later part of this story.

She was nearly asleep when the bedroom door burst open, and the Doctor flew in. Startled, Melody sat up and was reaching for her alarm clock to throw when she realized who it was. “Doctor! We will have to establish a rule for the bedroom! Namely involving knocking.”

“Later, later,” he babbled. “I forgot something about your telepathy training. Very important. Seriously important, oh, why didn’t I think of it? Stupid, stupid Doctor.” He slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead and paced the length of Melody’s room. “Shields! I know you don’t mind me seeing your thoughts when we’re connected mentally, but we’ve got to have them or we’ll never function normally.”

Melody pulled her pillow over her face. “Can’t we do this in the morning? I’m knackered.”

“We can’t!”

“Honestly.” Melody tossed the pillow aside, reached over to flip on the lamp, and immediately saw the Doctor’s predicament once light flooded the room. His trousers were strained across his groin, just barely managing to hide what she guessed was an impressive erection. Not porn star status, but he definitely was well-endowed. “Doctor, still not entirely on-board the whole shagging thing yet.”

“I know, I know.” He waved his hands about. “Which is why suddenly getting _this_ was even worse, considering I was talking to Donna while doing so.”

“Donna’s here?” Pleased, Melody tossed back the covers and searched for her slippers and dressing gown. “When did she get here? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Supposed to be a surprise, and I sent her off to bed.”

“Well, I’m not quite sure why talking with Donna would lead to your current predicament. I’d wager she’d dropkick you out of the TARDIS into a supernova if she ever found out you got a hard-on around her.”

He groaned. “Because you were _projecting_ , Melody.”

“I don’t possibly see what you -” Her voice cut off as she stared at her nightstand, a bit horrified. The same nightstand where she’d just tucked away her vibrator. “Projecting. As in when I was …”

He nodded, blushing furiously.

“Spoiler alert, Doctor, I’m not about to stop doing _that_ any time soon.”

“Which is why you need shields,” he ground out. “Otherwise you’re going to keep projecting when you do that, and you’re going to pick up when I -” He stopped and went redder than her mother and Donna’s hair combined.

“When you what?” Intrigued, Melody got to her feet and danced her fingers down the front of his shirt. He’d discarded the jacket in the console room, and the rolled-up shirt sleeves was an excellent look on him. “Oh, but that’s intriguing. Do Time Lords do the same thing?”

“Melody, I don’t think -”

“Hush now, I’m learning.” And she pressed her forehead to his just in time to see a flash of him touching himself in a very erotic way. _Oh, you do!_

_Melody, stop that!_

_Oh, don’t stop on my account. You’ve got me all curious. What do you think of when you’re alone?_

She immediately found herself back in her bedroom, the Doctor’s breathing ragged as he pulled away from her. “Well, your shields are working fine,” Melody chirped, amused. “No headache on my end when you forced me out, which is always a plus. Now, how do I do the same thing?”

“Walls,” he managed. “Lots of them. Around your thoughts. Especially when you’re doing _that_.”

“Can I imagine being shagged against them?” Melody poked his chest, and he growled in frustration before storming out of the room. She held her hand to her mouth as she laughed. She didn’t need telepathy to know what he was going to do. She crawled back under the covers and closed her eyes, trying to construct said shields. Really, it was a half-hearted attempt. Her mental self idly twirled a brick and waited.

When the erotic images flooded her mind, she moaned. She _knew_ it was a test, to see if she was paying attention to him. She stretched languorously and reached for her vibrator once more. This was one test she didn’t mind failing.

——

 As soon as Melody stepped into the kitchen hours later, Donna was nursing a cup of coffee and poking at the oatmeal which she claimed would help manage her weight. If anything, it was making her grumble more, but her annoyance was forgotten when she saw Melody.

“That dumbo,” she said with affection, pushing the bowl aside. “Is he treating you all right?”

Melody embraced her, squeezing her tightly. “He’s fine. Really.”

Melody discovered Donna’s time aboard the TARDIS in that initial rush of memories the ship had shared with her, but it wasn’t too hard to put the pieces together in the days after that. Donna had been the one to introduce her to UNIT and Martha Jones, and once Melody met the Doctor for herself, it had all made sense. Fate had done her an immense favor by directing her to Donna Noble.

“Did you know who I was to the Doctor?” she asked when they were settled at the table with coffee.

“I told him about your books, and he put two and two together,” Donna admitted. “Yeah, he’s a skinny streak of nothing. Even skinnier than he was, I didn’t think it was possible. And such a baby face. He keeps that up, and he’ll regenerate into a 2-year-old. Have to change nappies and everything.”

“I sincerely hope not!”

Donna rolled her eyes in a show of solidarity. “He needs someone to keep him in line. He’s a good man, Mels. An idiot, but a good man.”

Melody stared into her coffee. “Is this your way of giving this thing your blessing?”

Donna pursed her lips and took a sip of her own coffee. She didn’t say anything, and a Donna Noble at a loss for words was something slightly worrying. Melody wanted to ask, but kept her silence as she got up for her own mug of coffee.

“What do you know about Rose Tyler?”

The name made Melody glance up. “I know the Doctor loved her.”

“He told you?”

“He showed me. Telepathy training. It was the first memory he showed me, one of him and Rose and a man named Jack Harkness.”

“Well, then.” Donna got up, dump the oatmeal out, and started rummaging through the fridge for the makings of what she termed a proper breakfast. They’d most like be doing enough running to where she needed the extra calories. “Looks like he can learn from his mistakes. Who knew?” She dumped a carton of eggs in Melody’s arms.

“What mistakes?” She carried the eggs to the counter, and Donna followed with sausages.

“Knowing him, a bloody mess of them.” Donna opened the carton and pulled a bowl out of a nearby cabinet. She began cracking open eggs. “He loved Rose deeply. He also loved River Song deeply, that I could tell. Oh, he’ll deny it, probably always will. But, I know what to look for, because I saw him after Rose. Just after she was trapped in an alternate universe, and later on after that. When we were traveling before I met you, he never talked about her. But, he was grieving for her harder than he grieved for Rose.”

“I’m not River Song,” Melody said softly and wondered how she could even compare to the woman that the Doctor loved so much. “I don’t want to compete with a ghost.”

“Nor should you,” Donna agreed. “You’ll always have things in common. Same person. Just like that baby face will always have things in common with that skinny streak of nothing I first met. Still spaceman.”

Melody wasn’t sure how to respond to that and was saved by her father shuffling into the kitchen, inquiring about coffee.

——

The Doctor insisted on taking them on a proper trip, and he refused to let them know anything about the location. He pranced about the console and said a lot of nothing, and Melody quietly followed and corrected the things the TARDIS objected to most strenuously. She missed his furtive glances and the quirk of his lips, caught up in her own thoughts and wrapped up in listening to the TARDIS. When they landed, he ushered her and her mother to the doors ahead of Rory and Donna, insisting they be the first to glimpse where they landed.

“Oh, I’ve missed this,” Amy breathed, squeezing Melody’s hand as they stepped out of the TARDIS together. “It’s always the same, first time you step out these doors and into a new place.”

“It doesn’t bother you, given what happened?” Melody asked.

Amy tilted her head. “It’s like a drug. I don’t know how to quit,” she quietly admitted. “Those years when you were a baby, I was so happy with you, but I missed this like I missed one of my limbs. The whole day-to-day grind was something I never wanted at first, but then we built a life with you. But when the Doctor offered to take us on a trip with you, somewhere safe, it never occurred to me to say no. I sometimes wonder if I was running away again.” She sobered. “I have to live with that now.”

“Mum.” Melody wrapped an arm around her waist.

Amy brushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled at her daughter. “Well, Melody’s first proper trip. Pond family rite of passage.”

Melody lifted her eyebrows. “Third if you count New York as a kid and Tesco.”

“Which we don’t. Now, here we are in …” Amy’s voice trailed off as she took in the surroundings and architecture from the small alley where the Doctor had landed them.

Melody stood at her shoulder and frowned, recognizing the architecture from her studies and a trip she’d taken as an undergraduate, a gift from her Pond grandparents. “Is this Italy?”

“It might be,” the Doctor admitted as he strode out of the TARDIS.

“Is this a kink of yours, taking us to Italy as a first trip?” Donna asked the Doctor. “First place you took me was to Pompeii! On Volcano Day, you nitwit.”

“Mine was to Venice. 1580,” Rory said to Melody. “Lots of vampires. The Doctor was trying to get your mother to stop snogging him.”

Oh, so that part of her books _was_ true after all.

“It was a flash of insanity,” Amy sighed. “Not to mention he was a bit rubbish at it.”

“I am _not_ rubbish at kissing,” the Doctor muttered.

“Yeah, you were!” Amy smacked his arm. “You were out of practice, Raggedy Man. Good thing River was around later on to -” She cut off with a quick glance at Melody. Then she socked the Doctor’s arm again.

“Ow! Pond! What was that one for?”

“Because I just realized you’re snogging my daughter! I saw that memory, remember?”

“Just a couple snogs,” Melody muttered under her breath. OK, technically the first snog that was more River Song than herself. Then there was that telepathic exchange of erotic dreams. But technically the second didn’t count. Did it? “Where are we now?”

“Right! Good question, Melody Pond!” The Doctor looked like Melody had just saved him from a fleet of Daleks. “Well … Italy!”

Amy, Rory, and Donna exchanged knowing glances.

“And, if I got it right, 1597! Or 1598 after you lot messed with the calendars a couple centuries later.” The Doctor swept down to the end of the alley and made a sweeping gesture, indicating for Melody to take a look. “Welcome to Carnival!”

Melody edged around the Doctor. The sun hung low in the sky, and what she was seeing didn’t exactly match up with the mental image of what she was supposed to get.  She glanced over her shoulder at the Doctor. “Are you sure this is Carnival?”

“Melody Pond, when have I gotten it wrong?”

Donna snorted. Rory found the buildings extremely fascinating. Amy rolled her eyes.

Melody turned her attention back to the street and shrugged. “Well, granted this is particular era of the Renaissance is not my field of expertise in archaeology, but I think the better term you’re looking for here is funeral.”

“Funeral?” The Doctor spun around and peered over her shoulder. An elegant manner draped in black stood across the street. Melody could faintly hear the gay sounds of Carnival, but it clearly wasn’t near this house. What people approached it were dressed in black and very somber. “We didn’t come to a funeral! This can’t be a funeral!”

“Right, when he says that, it means I need to change into my running trainers,” Donna informed them and headed back to the TARDIS.

The Doctor gesticulated with his hands, fingers waggling as thoughts tripped through his mind, one after another, with growing speed. “That can’t be right! This is 1597. Or 98. I checked the monitors. Triple checked them, I wanted it to be perfect! Melody’s first proper TARDIS trip. This is where opera originated!” He indicated the mansion.  “Private performance funded by Jacopo Corsi, the crown jewel of Carnival. It was performed in front of the Medicis, who were enchanted with it!”

Despite the Doctor’s distress, Melody felt a giddy joy at what he was trying to do for her. “You took me to see the very first opera?”

“Well, of course! We are on a date, Melody Pond.”

“That’s the first I’ve heard of this date.”

He tapped her nose. “Surprise date.”

Melody jerked a thumb over her shoulder at her parents and Donna, who had come back out of the TARDIS with trainers on her feet and a water bottle in her hands. “With chaperones?”

He muttered something under his breath before looping an arm around her shoulders. “Never mind that. We have a bigger mystery. Who’s funeral is it?”

Jacopo Corsi’s it turned out.

“My Italian history is a bit rusty,” Melody whispered to the Doctor as they clustered in the back of the room, making polite inquiries and trying their very best not to stand out too terribly much with their anachronistic clothes. “But, if I recall, didn’t Corsi live sometime into the 17th century?”

“1602,” he whispered back. “He’s not supposed to be dead yet. Oh, the work on _La Dafne_ is complete, but it’s the performance that matters. And Corsi’s not even the important one. _La Dafne_ ’s success went on to spur the creation of _Euridice_ in 1600, and thus modern opera truly began. Jacopo’s partner, Jacopo Peri, was the man behind the music, and as long as Peri survives, it’s all well and good. But with Corsi dead, the performance will most likely be delayed past Carnival.”

The implications were grave, Melody realized as they watched the mourners assemble, wearing black masks and domino in preparation to bear the coffin to its final resting place. If _La Dafne_ wasn’t performed during Carnival, it couldn’t be performed during Lent. By the time Lent passed, the opportunity to perform in front of the Medici family would be gone, along with their eventual support of _Euridice_. Opera as an art form would be delayed being introduced or not exist altogether.

“Was the opera performed on this specific date?” she whispered.

“It was performed during Carnival.”

“Yes, which spans a number of days. As long as today isn’t Shrove Tuesday, then we have a chance of still making the deadline. We should check the date.” Melody pulled her iPhone discreetly out of her pocket to check the date and frowned when it failed to register the rather large time change. “I doubt the data plan works here.” She put it away.

“We could just use the sonic.” He pulled it out, and Melody stilled his hand.

“You go waving that thing around, and we could be arrested for witchcraft before we get a chance to do anything.” She took it from him. “Let’s go look at the TARDIS monitors.”

It was actually the day before Shrove Tuesday.

“So, cutting it a bit close,” Rory said.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Amy said confidently. “We’ve got a whole day to figure out how to fix this. We’ve had less.”

“You can’t just make a man undead,” Rory pointed out.

“You can on that one planet,” Donna said.

“Actually, three, I just took you to one of them,” the Doctor reminded her.

She socked his arm. “You were supposed to be taking me to Bimini!”

The Doctor ignored her. “So, Ponds and Donna! Here’s the plan. We find out who killed Jacopo Corsi before his time, convince Peri that the show must go on, and history will be mostly fixed! Not much we can do about Corsi at this point, but Peri’s the key here!” The Doctor clasped his hands together. “Don’t you find the name Jacopo fascinating?”

“And that is our cue to head for the wardrobe,” Amy announced.

The Doctor shook his head as Amy, Rory, and Donna disappeared up the stairs. He plucked at his tweed. His clothes were perfectly suitable, and tweed went with any time period. Except on that planet that outlawed tweed, but he was going to do his very best to make sure he didn’t go back there again.

He frowned. Someone was missing. He turned back to the console to see Melody hunched over it, her brow furrowed and his sonic in her hands. He patted his jacket and realized she never gave it back. A lock of hair fell in her eyes, and she dismissed it with a huff of air, then quickly pushing it aside when it didn’t behave. He nervously adjusted his bow tie and approached her. “What’s that, Melody Pond?”

“My iPad mini.” Tongue caught between her teeth, Melody focused on her work. “I’m modifying it into a tablet I can use so we can scan the area and keep track of data without having to run back here all the time or run up the universe’s largest mobile bill. This sort of technology isn’t exactly my strength, but it’s not as hard as I imagined it to be either.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and patted the time rotor. “The Old Girl is helping me.”

“Your innate Time Lord ability combined with help from the TARDIS,” he murmured. Melody would had been amazing at the Academy. “You’re quite clever, Melody.”

“I’d like to think so,” Melody said cheerfully and set the sonic aside. She pressed the home button, and the iPad began playing psychedelic hip hop at a deafening level. They immediately slammed their hands over their ears. “OK, so maybe that didn’t go according to plan!”

Risking his ear drums, the Doctor managed to get the iPad turned off and went to work on it himself. “This is useless,” he yelled over the neo soul music that came out the next time he turned it off. He managed to get it off and tossed the iPad aside. “And you’re projecting again.”

“I am not,” Melody huffed.

“Yes, you are.” He opened a panel on the console and began rummaging through.

“If I’m projecting, then what am I projecting?”

“That I should leave well enough alone and give you your tablet back.”

Melody closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. “I hate you.”

The Doctor’s eyes lit up, and he spun in place before tapping her nose. “No, you don’t!” Taking two steps at a time, he descended below the console and pulled open a storage hatch. He tossed various articles of clothing and assorted knick knacks aside until he unearthed a slab of electronics roughly the size of Melody’s iPad. It looked better ready to handle the elements but was small enough for Melody to slip into a bag. He carried it back up the stairs and hesitated a moment.

“That’s River’s, isn’t it?” Melody asked when he didn’t immediately hand it over.

“It’s yours,” the Doctor said pointedly. He tapped her forehead. “Still River in there. She’s always going to be, Melody.”

She accepted the tablet, and it felt second nature to run her thumbprint down the side of the monitor to activate it. It responded, booting up in a language that she had little trouble understanding. “She’s there, but she’s not,” she said quietly. “I never know when you look at me if you’re seeing me or you’re wanting to see her.” Embarrassed, because allowing the Doctor to see that side of her emotions was something River Song definitely wouldn’t do, Melody fled before the Doctor could respond.

\-----

They split into two teams, one which was in charge of ensuring that the performance of _La Dafne_ would go on and the other would search for whoever killed Jacopo Corsi. Melody volunteered to search for the latter, and Amy decided to go with her. Donna and Rory, after some convincing, went with the Doctor to sweet-talk the Medici family into having the show go on, as he put it. Once they were clear of the TARDIS, Melody closed her eyes and allowed the first true quiet she’d felt in days to seep into her pores.

“You didn’t want to go with Dad?” Melody asked as she used the TARDIS’ data banks to arm herself with information on Corsi before they set out.

“I’ve spent the past seven months with him trapped in the 1930s. There’s something to be said for a little time apart.” Amy leaned against the console and watched Melody work. “Are you OK?”

Melody smiled. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because your eyes are very sad.” Amy wrapped an arm around her waist. “You never could quite keep it out of your eyes, you know. Every time the Doctor hurt you, in the other timeline, I could see it.”

“He doesn’t mean to.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not a right git.”

Melody chuckled. “He’s getting used to all of this as well. I’m not what he expected, I bet. I’m not some femme fatale. I’m just me.”

“Give him a little credit, Mels. I have two, now three, timelines running through my head after all. I’m still here, because I’m still Amelia Pond.” Amy lifted an eyebrow. “Now, is the problem really with the Doctor, or is it with you?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” Melody groused.

“Always. And that means making you realize when you’re a bit of a git yourself.”

Melody scowled at the monitor and filed the observation into the ‘to be dealt with later’ part of her brain.

The Corsi family lived in a well-heeled part of Florence, but not even wealth could mask the fact that there really wasn’t an adequate sewage system at this point in history. Melody and Amy pressed scented handkerchiefs to their noses as they quickly moved down the pavement toward the house they visited earlier that day.

“Somehow, the smell didn’t bother me so much when I was in this part of history before,” Amy muttered as they joined a line of mourners. “I’m going to blame that on the being dazzled part of this whole bit.”

“It seems worse than before, doesn’t it?” Melody wrinkled her nose and stuffed the handkerchief back in her bag. It was pretty useless anyhow.

They slipped back into the house and mingled with the mourners. A large clump of women gathered around a petite woman, face pinched with grief and lack of sleep. Corsi’s wife, Melody guessed. She and Amy joined the women and found themselves presented to Maria Caterina Corsi, murmuring words of comfort.

“Signora and Signorina Pond,” Maria Caterina said with a small incline of her head. “It’s good to see patrons of my husband come by. I never quite knew the breadth of his generosity until the unfortunate incident.”

“If you don’t mind our asking, what happened to Signor Corsi?” Melody asked.

Maria Caterina dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief. “I presume it’s his heart, at least that is what the doctor told me. My Jacopo, he has been under much stress the past few days, preparing for Carnival. He had a great surprise, he told me, something that would revive the dramas of the ancient Greeks. He and Signor Peri have been working quite hard on it. They were to present it to the de Medici!” Maria Caterina sobbed anew into her handkerchief, more distressed over this particular loss than her husband’s death.

“Has anyone strange been around your home lately?” Amy asked.

“Signora Pond, my husband is a respected merchant. Half these people here I don’t even know.”

“Right, well, that got us nowhere,” Amy muttered as Maria Caterina dismissed them, turning to better-known friends to commiserate with. She scowled, wrinkling her nose as she fished for her handkerchief. “And someone really needs to empty the chamber pots in here. It reeks.”

“It does,” Melody agreed, and something about that was off. She slipped behind the closest privacy screen and discreetly lifted the lid of the chamber pot concealed within. “Unused,” she murmured and let the lid drop. “Check the other chamber pots,” she told Amy.

Amy arched her eyebrows. “Sorry? Are you asking me to go inspect the contents of Renaissance toilets?”

“Yes, I am.” Melody steered Amy toward the hall. “Meet me by the front door in 15 minutes. I have a theory.”

It actually took about twenty minutes before Amy and Melody met by the front door. Murmuring their sympathies, they slipped into the night air. It smelled far cleaner than when they arrived at the house, which added more fuel to Melody’s suspicions.

“None of the chamber pots I checked near where Signora Corsi was receiving her guests were used,” Melody explained as she and Amy walked back to the TARDIS. “What about you?”

“The same,” Amy acknowledged, “and let me tell you just how awkward that was.”

“Sorry,” Melody apologized. “But, it plays into my theory.”

“Which is?”

“Aliens.”

Amy skidded to a halt and planted her hands on her hips. “All right. That makes sense. Which aliens?”

Bless having a mother who was also a time traveler. Melody tapped the side of her nose and closed her eyes. Knowledge raced behind her eyelids, that other timeline she had lived as River Song. She shook her head and pulled out her tablet. “I don’t think it’s a race I encountered much in the other timeline, but I’m pretty sure the Doctor has. Ah, here we are!” She beckoned Amy over, and she peered over Melody’s shoulder at the data. “The Slitheen, though the race is known as the Raxacoricofallapatorians.”

“Try saying that one three times fast,” Amy muttered.

“This is a particular family of that alien race, well-known for hounding Earth in an attempt to turn a profit. Look here, the Doctor and Rose Tyler defeated them in 2005, in the restored timeline. Sarah Jane Smith also encountered them a couple times, along with Jack Harkness.”

“I recognize them from the TARDIS data banks,” Amy said. “Rose popped up a lot.”

“Of course she’d show up a lot. He loved her,” Melody explained. She slipped the tablet back in her bag. “In any case, it explains the sewage smell. It’s the gas exchange caused by masquerading as humans. What better to turn a profit with than the original opera?”

“Wait a minute.” Amy held up her hands. “Let’s backtrack to the whole fact that the Doctor told you about Rose Tyler. He hasn’t even told me about Rose.”

“How do you know about her then?”

“Not long after I boarded the TARDIS, I saw a list of all the women who’d been on board. Then Donna and I chatted a bit while in the wardrobe.” Amy shook her head. “I’m a little jealous, really. He doesn’t talk about Rose. Believe me, I tried.”

“He didn’t really tell me. He showed me mentally. Now, about the Slitheen.” Melody strode down the pavement, determined to put some distance between them and the conversation.

“Melody,” Amy said in exasperation.

“It’s not my business to tell, Mother. If the Doctor wants you to know about Rose, he’ll tell you.”

“It’s not that,” Amy pressed. “Remember when I told you that you might be acting a bit like a git?”

“ _Mother._ ”

“If he didn’t feel anything for _you_ , Melody Pond, he wouldn’t have told you about Rose. Think about it.”

Melody scowled, feeling more like a teenager being scolded than a perfectly rational adult who was capable of having a mature relationship with a thousand-year-old alien. So, there.

“Aww, look, I didn’t miss out on the petulant teenage years after all,” Amy cooed.

Melody stuck her tongue out at Amy, and they broke into laughter.

It was a small matter of using the scanner to track the Doctor, Donna, and Rory. They happened to be in jail.

“Really?” Melody asked, hands on her hips as the Doctor scowled and muttered about the sonic being useless on the wooden door barring the cell. She arched an eyebrow at the Doctor as he gave her a most pitiful look through the bars in the small hole cut into the door. “And just how long did it take for you lot to land in prison?”

“Thirty six minutes and 27 seconds, thereabouts,” Rory supplied.

“Thank you for helping, Rory Pond,” the Doctor sighed.

“We wouldn’t even be in here if you hadn’t forgotten your psychic paper, you great lout,” Donna said, swatting the Doctor’s arm.

“It didn’t help that you insulted the de Medicis!” the Doctor shot back at her.

“Children, children,” Melody sang, digging into her pouch. “You mean this psychic paper?” She waved it in front of the bars.

“Mine! Gimme!” The Doctor reached for it, and Melody held it out of reach.

“Not a chance. Clearly you’re not responsible enough to play with the grown-up toys.”

“I’ll take care of this.” Amy took the psychic paper and went off in search of a guard. “What excuse should I give?”

“That they’re our concubines and are being particularly naughty.”

“Oh, that’s just wrong,” Rory muttered.

Actually, the paper said that the Doctor and Rory were Melody and Amy’s wayward husbands, and Donna was the nursemaid tasked with keeping an eye on them. “Entirely the truth,” Donna proclaimed as the group emerged onto the streets of Florence amidst the bustle of Shrove Tuesday.

Melody used the crowd to her advantage, relaying what Maria Caterina told her and Amy and their subsequent inspection of the chamber pots. “Distinct smell of sewage, but no sign that the chamber pots had been used, plus we hadn’t smelled anything like it earlier in the day. Do you think it’s the Slitheen?”

“It’s something they would do,” the Doctor replied. “An opera like _La Dafne_ , the sheer importance of such an event would be a huge draw.”

“But, why keep it from being performed?” Amy wondered. “Wouldn’t it cost even more to see it through?”

“They’ll see it through,” the Doctor said. “Just on their terms.”

“So, the question remains,” Donna said. “Who did the Slitheen take over? Peri or the de Medicis?”

\-----

They wound up outside of one of the great de Medici mansions armed with domino masks and the psychic paper. As the crowd of elegantly dressed revelers grew, they held the masks over their eyes and started for the gates.

“Maris wanted me to go to the States with her for one of these,” Donna commented, giving the crowd a shrewd look. “You ask me, it was just an excuse to get drunk for a week and leave me with the bill!”

When they approached the guards, the Doctor flashed the psychic paper. They grunted, but didn’t say anything as they followed the crowd onto the grounds. More guards were stationed at the front door, and with each set they passed, the psychic paper had to be flashed again. Eventually, they found themselves standing in the grand entrance of one of the most luxurious homes that Melody had ever seen. She recognized some of the artwork on displace, a frisson of excitement skating down her spine at standing among living history.

“This family produced four popes and two queens,” Melody murmured. “Look at the da Vinci over there! Lorenzo de Medici was a sponsor of his for years! And Michaelangelo lived here as well.” She was careful to keep her voice down, but her fingers itched to _touch_ , to feel history breathe beneath her fingertips. The subjects of endless rounds of lectures and textbooks had been created in places like this, and she could sense all of the possibilities spinning from them. The experience was intoxicating.

She turned away from one of the paintings to find the Doctor smiling at her, and it was one of those moments of perfect accord. He understood what she felt. This was _time_ , the heady experience of seeing what was and what could be. He held out his hand, wiggling the fingers a bit. Grinning from ear to ear, Melody clasped it and wondered about nicking a souvenir.

“No,” the Doctor whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her curls. “You can’t take something with you.”

“Oh, why not, they’ll never miss it.” Oh, now she was _determined_ to take something.

Before he could reply, a man in an elegant costume stepped out of one of the side rooms. It took Melody a moment to place him as one of the people in the family portraits ringing the room.

“My knowledge of the de Medici family tree is a bit rusty,” Melody whispered, itching to pull out her tablet.

“Lorenzo the younger. Nephew of the first. Had the luck to pick the right side after his uncle died, not that he’ll ever attain the greatness that the elder Lorenzo did.”

“Good evening!” Lorenzo said casually, but his voice was strong enough that it echoed through the room and everyone fell into silence. “As you are aware, we have lost a great member of our community, Signor Jacopo Corsi. He and Signor Peri’s unusual Greek drama was to be performed tonight, and the Peri family has urged me to continue in Signor Corsi’s honor. As you can see, I am hardly one to deny such a request. If you shall follow me, we will take in the play _La Dafne_.”

“Well, there you go,” Rory said as the crowd murmured and began to follow Lorenzo. “History remains intact after all.”

“It still doesn’t explain why Corsi died three years early,” Amy said.

“Have you seen the sort of records that were kept in this time?” Donna pointed out. “Absolutely nonexistent, and it’s not like it got any better, what with all the messes I’ve had to straighten out in my day.”

“But, what about the sewage smell at the Corsi mansion?” Amy asked.

“The sewage system is probably about as rudimentary as the bookkeeping,” Rory replied.

Melody held up a finger. “Now, I know I’m the rookie here, but doesn’t this all seem a bit too easy?”

“Yes,” Amy, Rory, and Donna replied at once.

“Just checking.”

\-----

They clustered into the back of the room. With the crush of bodies and no air conditioning, it got very hot, very quickly. Despite period perfumes, Melody found herself pressing her handkerchief to her nose and wishing she could just pass around a stick of deodorant to everyone.

“And this is the part of time traveling I’ve never gotten used to,” Amy confessed, and Melody had to agree.

A stage stood at one end of the room, raised just high enough for the actors. A hush stole over the crowd as the opera began, the lines being sung instead of spoken causing an excited buzz among the crowd of humanists and those who were honoring Jacopo Corsi’s memory. The music was light and sweet as the story began of how Apollo wooed Daphne, a minor figure in mythology, but who supposedly led to the creation of the laurel tree.

Melody’s attention was riveted on the performance. She’d never seen opera performed live, never thought she would enjoy it. The gift of the TARDIS translated the libretto for her, and she gradually lost herself in the story. She wondered about securing a patronage with the Royal Opera House. OK, that might be out of her budget. She would at least support on the friendship level.

Beside her, the Doctor fidgeted a bit. Melody ignored it, because if she’s learned anything in the past few days, it’s that he was one of the most restless creatures she’d ever encountered. So, she ignored the fidgeting. She tuned out the muttering. The whirl of the sonic finally drew her attention to him.

“What’re you doing?” she whispered.

“Experimenting with some of the settings,” he replied. “If I did it just right, this will deactivate their compression fields”

He waved the sonic just as the soprano hit a high note. Around them, skin suits split open to reveal Slitheen beneath.

Melody drew in a breath. She’d read about aliens, had come up with several of her own drawing upon River’s memories, and then, of course, there was the Doctor. But seeing something not quite humanoid in the flesh was quite different. They were every bit as hideous-looking as the stereotypes promoted. There were 15, she counted as the unsuspecting Italians began screaming. A few men had enough wits to brandish swords, but most people chose to faint.

The Siltheen merely blinked, then let up a collective groan.

“Really, and I was just starting to enjoy myself,” one groused.

“It’s all that bloke’s fault, could you not control yourself with that thing?” a second demanded, pointing at the Doctor’s sonic.

“You lot can talk,” Donna replied. “You killed Jacopo Corsi!”

“Well, of course we murdered him,” the Siltheen closest to Rory said. “Really, all part of the family business.”

The Doctor spun to that Siltheen. “One of the Fel-Fotch Slitheen.”

He puffed up. “Vladir Fel-Fotch Pasameer Day Slitheen. I’m pleased you know of us.”

“Yes, had quite the nasty encounter with members of your family a number of years ago. Tell me, how is Blon doing these days?”

“You know of my cousin?”

“Yes! Big, green, very nasty, tried to take over London then Cardiff, very nearly succeeded at that. Want to know who stopped her?” The Doctor waved at them. “Me.”

The Slitheen now had their full attention trained on the Doctor. Melody had the strangest urge to roll her eyes and gave in to it.

“Oh, well, see, I’ve defeated you several times now. I just happen to know your weaknesses.”

“There’s an entire branch of our family here,” one of the Slitheen pointed out. “And five of you.”

“Yes, we’re greatly outnumbered!” The Doctor adjusted his bow tie and turned his back on the Slitheen. “Melody? Amy, Rory, Donna? You know what to do!”

Amy, Rory, and Donna whipped around and fled as the Slitheen closed in around the Doctor.

“Ah, dear, that was your cue to run,” the Doctor whispered as Melody pressed into his side.

“Do you really think I’m just going to leave you to them?” Melody hissed. “Why _La Dafne_?” She directed this question to the Slitheen on her right.

“Oh, we’re getting a right nice commission from it! A warp star that’ll take out the planet. Our cousins decimated it at the wrong point in history, far too polluted. The only thing he wanted was this opera thing.” He plucked the score off the conductor’s stand and stared at the papers. “It’s just _paper_. Useless. What sort of power does this have?”

“Immense,” the Doctor replied. “What you’re holding there will change music and art for humans. This is one of the most influential cultural moments on Earth, and you’ve gone and ruined it!”

“Well, it’s not like we won’t give it back. If they can make us a better offer than the warp star, then we’ll enter negotiations.”

Melody frowned at the bodies at her feet. Somehow, negotiations didn’t seem like they would be happening any time soon. She shifted, and her foot nudged a sword that had fallen from the slackened grip of one of the men. She picked it up, hefting the blade as she considered her options.

“I could, if I allowed you to do so,” the Doctor said to Vladir.

“You never said who you were,” Vladir spat.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I should had introduced myself, where were my manners?” He gave Vladir a mock salute. “I’m the Doctor. And my friend behind you with the very sharp sword is Melody Pond.”

Vladir sucked in a breath as Melody pressed the point of the blade into his back.

“You’re really getting the bad end of the deal here, Vladir,” the Doctor continued as he helped himself to the composer’s score. He curled the papers into a tube and tapped one end against the other hand as he pivoted so his back was to Melody’s as he addressed the assembled cousins. “As valuable as this is, a warp star is worth far more than that. They’re using you as errand boys. They’ve always done that with this side of the family, haven’t they? You’re the screw-ups, and you’re going to take the fall!”

“Aren’t you just goading them a little too much?” Melody hissed.

“That’s what you’re here for, dear, you’ve got the sword.”

“I’ve never used a sword!”

The Doctor froze. “What?”

“Not. River. _Song_ ,” Melody repeatedly slowly through gritted teeth.

“So … you can’t take out 14 of them with your hand tied behind your back?”

“What, no!”

“How about six?”

“Doctor!”

“Three?”

Melody growled under her breath.

“How about the toenail off the one to your left?”

“She can’t use the sword?” Vladir smirked.

Melody poked him a little harder with the tip. “You don’t want to test me.”

“He just admitted you were utterly useless.”

“I am _not_ useless!” As Vladir turned to Melody, she jammed a knee into his groin. With a high-pitched shriek, he topped to the floor at her feet. She whipped around in time to cross swords with another of the Slitheen. He pushed her back, and she tried to gain enough balance to utilize her judo moves.

_Heels on feet are quite useful, darling._

Melody listened to the voice in her head and stomped on the Slitheen’s foot. He howled, and she slammed the sword to his wrist, knocking it away. It gave her enough balance to sweep his legs from under him. He landed on the ground with a sickening crack, and Melody pivoted to face the third. She heard the whirl of the sonic behind her, and after a moment, felt the Doctor’s back press to hers once more.

“How many have you taken down, dear?”

“Two. You?”

“Oh, one or two.” The Doctor jammed his sonic into the collar of an approaching Slitheen. After a pulse from the tool, the Slitheen staggered away, clutching at its neck. “Maybe three. Did you notice we moved?”

Melody scanned the area quickly, hard to do when she was surrounded by Slitheen. They were close to the stage now, her legs hitting the back of it. She glanced at the Doctor quickly out of the corner of her eye, and he grabbed her hand. Melody faced her next opponent and counted under her breath. _Three, two, one_ … Melody leaped backward at the same time the Doctor did, landing on the stage just as billowing curtains were released from their hangings. They dropped onto the remaining Slitheen, smothering them.

“How’d we do?” Amy called down from the railing. Rory stood at the opposite, swords in their hands from where they had sliced through the ropes holding the curtains up for the performance.

“Really cutting it close there, Pond,” the Doctor scolded her.

Amy rolled her eyes.

“Somehow,” Melody whispered to the Doctor as they watched the Slitheen try to fight off the yards of velvet, “I don’t think the original performance of _La Dafne_ was supposed to turn out like a Bugs Bunny cartoon.”

“It’s a good thing,” he whispered back, “history mostly forgot about this, eh?”

“I don’t suppose we have anything to do with that?”

“Well, the music of _La Dafne_ doesn’t survive this era.”

“Right.” Melody snatched the libretto that remained on the conductor’s stand and handed it to him. “Put that in your coat along with the sheet music, and we’ll add it to the TARDIS library.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A little petty theft, Melody Pond?”

“Let’s just say it’s a nightcap to our evening at the opera.” Melody linked arms with him and laid her head on his shoulder. “How do you plan to top this date, sweetie?”

“Oh, I’ve a few ideas.”

——

How it all got sorted was terribly anti-climatic. Donna, Melody learned, had gone back to the TARDIS and sent a distress signal to the mothership. Before the de Medicis and guests woke, the Siltheen had been beamed back to the mothership. Melody had hoped to be introduced to the “cousins,” but the Doctor wanted little to do with the family. He had quite enough of them in his ninth incarnation, thank you very much, he told her. They made a copy of the libretto and restored the copy to the de Medici home and kept the musical score to make sure history didn’t change any more than it already had.

“How much did it change?” Melody asked as they gathered outside the de Medici mansion where the guests stumbled from the entrance exchanging hushed, excited whispers..

“Corsi wasn’t heard from that much again in the years between _La Dafne_ ’s performance and his death,” the Doctor explained. “Peri, however, will go on to write _L’Euridice_ two years later, and it’ll be performed at the wedding of Henry IV to Maria de Medici. And, there you have it, Melody Pond. Opera! Now.” The Doctor clapped his hands and spun to Donna. “You pick the next place, Donna Noble.”

“But, what about us?”

The question from Rory halted the Doctor briefly. “Next time, Centurion.”

“No,” Rory replied. “We need to decide. Me and Amy. We have to go back to the 21st century at some point.”

“We’ve got time! We’re in a time machine!” Amy chirped.

“Amy.”

“Not yet, Rory.” Amy took his hand and squeezed it. “I just don’t want to deal with it yet.”

“You can’t run away forever.” This came from Donna as she gave Amy a sympathetic look. “I know. I tried. I kept running from life, but at some point, you have to deal with it.”

“Oh, I know. It’s just … later.” Amy gave a quick nod. “One more trip.”

“You’re doing it again,” Rory murmured as they started back to the TARDIS. “Just like when Melody-”

“Shut up,” Amy hissed.

Melody tuned her parents out, lingering a bit behind the rest of the group as she took in the city one last time. It would be worth coming back here for more pleasant reasons. Maybe in a few centuries when adequate plumbing was developed. She tucked an errant curl behind her ear as she watched her parents murmur in low voices and Donna link arms with the Doctor as she chatted with him. Amy was right. Maybe they could keep things the way they were just awhile longer.

“How was it?”

Melody almost didn’t hear the voice at first, but it leaped out at her. It was very modern, very _British_. And she found herself face-to-face with a woman with dark hair, elegant waves curling against the top of her breasts. She was shorter than Melody, a good 6-7 inches at that, and something about her seemed very familiar. “I’m sorry?”

“The opera. How was it?”

“Oh, well, it was good what we saw of it.” Melody’s brow furrowed as something pitched in her stomach. “Wait a minute. The performance tonight wasn’t known as opera until years later. Who _are_ you?”

The woman grinned. “You said you always had the best memories of your first date with the Doctor. A little mystery, a lot of aliens, even some romance. I know it’s not the same as before, but I’m glad the reality is like your story.”

It suddenly hit Melody where she’d seen that face before. The woman on the Doctor’s monitor. The one who rewrote her timeline. “Oswin Oswald?”

The woman’s eyebrow arched. “What was that name again?” She glanced behind her. “Got to go. Sorry you won’t remember this.” She stepped forward and briefly pressed her lips to the corner of Melody’s in a chaste kiss. “Love you,” she whispered and faded into the night.

——

Head pounding, Melody staggered onto the TARDIS. She pressed a hand to her forehead and really wished that whoever was playing maracas against her skull would cease immediately.

“There you are, Melody Pond!” The Doctor bounded to the door and frowned when he got a good look at her. “Come on, places to see. I’ve bundled your parents and Donna off to bed. Got some place to show you.” He slipped a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. “Are you all right?”

“Just a sudden headache. Got it walking back from the de Medici mansion. Must be the air. Really looking forward to visiting Italy when sewage isn’t an issue.” Melody kneaded her temples.

“There’s some 28th century blockers in the med bay.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and steered her toward the stairs. “Take those, and your headache will be gone in five minutes. I’ve got some place I want to show you.”

He took her to the planet Aquos, a water planet that was populated by the most elegant merpeople that Melody had ever seen. They couldn’t go out, the Doctor explained as he ushered Melody into one of the larger viewing rooms in the TARDIS, because the atmosphere was detrimental even to a part-Time Lord’s lungs. But, he still had a few connections and was able to transmit performances through the TARDIS. He escorted her to a plush loveseat and waved his hand. The wall before them shimmered, then faded, revealing an underwater stage.

“First performance of _La Dafne_ in centuries,” he told her as he scooted next to her. “I might have made a small donation to their musical literary society.”

Melody’s breath caught as the opera began, and she squeezed his arm. “I love it,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Melody Pond. Any time.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's a lot of real history mixed with some liberty of the sparse facts of that era in this story. From what I was able to understand, the first actual performance of _La Dafne_ took place at the home of one of the Jacopos that created it. However, the part about the performance of the opera's successor for the de Medici wedding is true.


End file.
